Just One Happy Day, Together
by Mutt N. Feathers
Summary: Harry finds an old Time-Turner in a Potter family hunting cottage where he is now living. He's warned before he goes on his trip that he can't change anything. Of all of the days in all the years, what day would Harry choose? Written for a Time-Turner contest. Just a little happy fluffy love with my favorite HP extended family.
1. Chapter 1

**Just One Happy Day, Together**

**A Harry Potter Fan Fiction**

**by Mutt N Feathers**

**Chapter 1:**

**Ob-La-De, Ob-La-Da**

**(Inspired by the Beatles song of the same name) **

**August 1, 1998**

Harry stepped outside the back door from the hunting cottage he'd been living in for the last six weeks, his feet bare, jeans belt less and slung low. His tee-shirt was in one hand, a very large, steaming cup of coffee was in the other. His hair was still wet from the shower he'd just taken, and having no specific plans for the day, he was going to let it air dry, fly-aways be damned. Draping the shirt over his thigh, he took a long pull from his mug. He'd always been a tea drinker, but after ONLY having tea at his disposal while on the run, he found he couldn't stand the taste anymore. He suspected the bitterness of Hermione's blend didn't help matters; to him it was all injury, anger and loss. His left hand now free, he slipped it into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out the item he'd stowed there last night.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised to find the Time-Turner in the old Potter cottage outside of Cotswold; they were a magical family and he knew from other documents he'd read in the last weeks, his grandmother had worked in the Office of Legislated Time Travel at the Ministry. This had been their hunting and fishing cottage, if you could call a four-bedroom home a hunting cottage. The stuffed heads of long dead kills had been removed at Hermione's insistence; since she was sharing the house with Harry; he didn't like the reminder of death so close anyway. The Weasley's had begged him to live with them, as had Tonks' mom, Andi; but Harry needed to be alone with his thoughts and memories. Hermione knew when to press him to talk and when to leave him be, so she made the perfect housemate. They had tried to live at Grimmauld Place, but there were too many memories and he was too close to the Ministry. Here, on the outskirts of Rowenaham, miles from civilization, people had to be intentional about their visiting. Harry liked it that way.

Harry set the mug down on the step next to him, and held the Time-Turner in his hands, part of the long chain dropping off the sides of his large palms. There were so many places he wanted to go, so many things he wanted to change; but he knew he couldn't. Bill had been with him when he'd taken possession of the vast wealth, properties and items in the vaults at Gringotts, signed over to him as heir to the Potter and Black lines. Another Time-Turner, an ancient one which couldn't be trusted to be accurate, was in the Black family vault. Harry had brightened at the idea of going back to fix wrongs; but Bill stopped him. One of the problems of changing time was you couldn't ever be sure that what you changed it to would be better than what currently existed. Unlike his mother, who would have yelled, or Kingsley, who would have simply told him he couldn't do it, Bill sat down with Harry over some Firewhisky and talked with him calmly. Somewhere in his mildly drunk constitution, he agreed to not go back in time to change things. That didn't mean Harry wouldn't go back in time at all.

He heard stirrings from Hermione's room above him, but he wasn't quite ready to talk with her; she was going to be opposed to what he was thinking about. He pulled the tee-shirt over his head and picked up his mug before standing and walking to the edge of the garden, and down the paver-stone path to the grotto he'd carved out of the hill behind the home.

Hidden from view of the house, he'd built a memorial to the six people who he lost. His parents were buried in Godric's Hollow, and they would stay there; but it was just too populous and conspicuous for him to visit often. In the rock face he'd carved a stag and doe, she nuzzling her nose to his neck. Next to them was a scruffy dog with a small falcon on his back. He'd learned from Sirius about his one true love, Anwen, who had been murdered days after his parents, on what was to have been Sirius' and her wedding day. Next to them was a wolf, a butterfly perched on his nose, he smiling at it. Before her Patronus had changed over to match his, Tonks' had been a butterfly. Harry had always thought it was a more appropriate reflection of her, especially in the joy that she'd been able to bring to Remus' life. The Lupins were buried near Mrs. Tonks' house, but this was his place to commune with the six of them—the people who loved him enough to give up their lives to protect him.

Harry pulled his wand out of his back pocket, Mad-Eye's rebuke _"you'll blow your buttock off"_ rattling around his brain and making him smile. Pointing it at a specific rock, the dark grey slate slid over lighter ones until a small cavity was completely open. Inside were some pictures he'd gathered from different sources, but they were all on the same theme. It was the single day he knew all these people were together: his parents wedding day.

There were shots of the Marauders together, although Harry ignored Wormtail as best as he could. At the time he was still their mate, their partner in crime and fighting evil. It was only weeks after they'd left Hogwarts; Peter hadn't changed sides until nearly a year later. One large picture was of his Mum, Anwen and a close friend from school, Eva. This was one of Sirius', and he'd explained that Voldemort had gone after Eva's mother, as she was a siren. Her family disappeared one night, and no one knew where they'd gone. A note arrived several days later, alerting her friends that they were safe, and begging them not to look for them. It was hardest for Remus, as he'd been involved with her on and off for years at Hogwarts. Just as Sirius rarely spoke of Anwen, Remus never spoke of Eva again.

Harry liked the picture of the three girls, his Mum with her vibrant red hair, Eva and her golden hair and little Anwen with her brown, looked like they were in a commercial for a shampoo. They were arm in arm swinging their ponytails back and forth, singing something he'd never been able to figure out the lyrics to. They all looked so happy and carefree, like teens were supposed to be. From the date on the back, this was days before the wedding. Perhaps it was her hen night, then again maybe not. He wasn't sure what women did on a hen night. Sirius had said they were nearly inseparable, regardless of Eva being a Hufflepuff and Anwen being two years behind.

Harry continued to go through his photographs, smiling at his Dad's face as his Mum came down the aisle to him. Sirius handing over both rings as Petunia had boycotted the affair, since it was at the Potter Estate. Sirius, Remus, Eva and Anwen together toasting the happy couple. The look on his mother's face told Harry whatever had been said was somewhat embarrassing. There was a picture of Tonks, icing smeared over much of her face, Remus in the background looking dismayed at how messy all the children were at the 'kids' table.

Harry looked at the pictures of the three Hogwarts couples dancing, marveling at the different stages of love there. He wasn't sure how long he'd sat there, but Hermione's calls from the garden pulled him back to the present. He quickly stowed the pictures and sealed the rock strongbox. All he had to do now was convince Hermione that he wasn't going to do anything reckless or impulsive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

**I Choose You**

**(Inspired by the song by Sara Bareilles)**

**Saturday July 16, 1978**

**Rosewood Castle, Oxfordshire, England**

**Ancestral Home of Wilma Julia Eloise Parker Nighman Potter **

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Hermione complained as they walked up the winding path which ran from the carriage drop off location near the road to the large marquee which was set up behind the castle. "I swear, Harry, if you do anything today—"

"Hermione, I promised I wouldn't, okay. You're just going to need to trust me. I know I can't change time. Bill and I had a VERY detailed discussion about the ramifications of those actions. I just want to see them happy. Please, we'll sit in the back, eat a little cake and then leave. Why can't you trust me?" The pain, frustration, irritation and sadness crept in slowly, so that his last question was weighed down in emotion and timbre.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Harry," she replied. "It's just that I would find it hard not to change something. I can't imagine the temptation you'll be under."

Harry had argued with her for three days about coming today; they'd been to Bill and Fleur's to talk with him about it. They'd even consulted Headmistress McGonagall, who had taken a few moments out of her overseeing the rebuilding of Hogwarts to approve their visit to his parents wedding. All of them had reiterated that he needed to refrain from changing anything or even making direct contact with his parents; but his being here to witness the day would be okay. He had so much to figure out about his own life; and it wasn't helping him that he felt adrift. Hermione's parents were still angry with her, but at least she had them; same with Ron and Ginny. Harry had no one, save his Muggle relatives. If he never saw them again, it would be too soon. The Wizarding world wanted to claim Harry as their own, but all he wanted was someone to claim as his own.

The castle was impressive as they road up to it. The Potter family had everyone come into Oxford—whether they arrived via Portkey, automobile, Apparition or airplane — and then carriages, with living, wingless horses, brought the guests to the castle. The limestone front was gleaming, different from how Harry had seen it a few weeks ago. The gardens were meticulously prepared and the lawns were lush and vibrant in their greens. The wedding was taking place outside, and the guests were being kept from the main building. Harry suspected this was due to the house-elves; April, Bogden, Cammy, Dusty and Eldo. He knew from the bank papers that the family simply worked its way through the alphabet and when they reached the end, it would start over. The elder Potters had been without elves most of their married life, but found in their advancing ages and with their only son away at school, the help was needed. Harry looked up at the first floor of the castle, wondering which rooms his Mum and Dad were in. He'd reviewed the blueprints of each floor the night before, considering which ones would be best. Since this wasn't his grandparents' primary house, he suspected they didn't have assigned rooms. They lived in the more modest Potter Manor in Portree, Scotland; this was a 'summer home'.

"It's so beautiful," Hermione gasped, and Harry couldn't help agree. The path from the front ended under a stained glass gazebo which was about thirty yards from the back portico and house. The entire ceiling of the gazebo had an intricate rose design, the flowers in vibrant reds, pinks and corals. The columns had climbing roses gracing them. The colours matched the stained glass versions, with their blooms adding a sweet, romantic scent. There were marble benches built into every other opening with flower boxes at the top, cabbage roses in the palest of pinks and white filled them to the brim. The backs of the seats were high enough that a young courting couple could sit and only have their feet showing, affording them some privacy from their chaperone.

"My great-grandfather built it for my great-grandmother as a wedding present. Her name was Wilma, but everyone called her Rose, although given the motif, you could have probably guessed that one," Harry joked. "This is one of the places I'd like to show Ginny."

"I can see why."

The pair followed the steady stream of guests to the large white and gold marquee, and went inside. Harry was shocked to find Peter Pettigrew there to meet them.

"Good day," he said happily. "Are you here as part for the bride or the groom?"

"Er…um…" Harry stammered, shocked to not only see the man who had betrayed his parents here, but obviously part of the wedding party by his appearance. He wore a black morning coat over grey trousers and a matching waistcoat.

"We're here for the groom," Hermione covered for Harry. She too was surprised to see Pettigrew, but her reaction had never been quite as visceral as Harry's.

"Excellent," Peter replied. "You have the look of a Potter about you. If you would follow me." Hermione had used a common Aging Potion to make she and Harry looked as if they were in their early fifties, and should anyone ask, they were Harold and Jean Granger. Given the size of the throng that was here, she didn't figure anyone would care.

Once they were seated, Harry looked around, feeling as if he'd stepped into one of his own pictures. The front of the marquee had a floral arch, completely done in white roses and tiger lilies. His father's nickname for his mother had been 'tiger lily', which is why the bright orange blooms were being used. His grandmother and grandfather Potter, Julia and Andrew, were walking about greeting people. Hermione caught his staring and elbowed him gently.

"You can't stare like that," she reminded him.

"I know, it's just…might be my only chance." She couldn't refute his reasoning, so instead took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Suddenly, Remus walked briskly into the tent, and it seemed he was walking right to them, causing them to each hold their breath. When he stopped next to Harry, who was on the aisle, the young man was convinced someone had known of their travel back in time. Instead, Remus began talking to someone else in the narrow space between the rows of chairs.

"I think you need to go in there," he said. "Padfoot is making Prongs more nervous."

"Honestly, he's not the one getting married, what's his problem?" a sweet female voice asked. Harry turned his head just enough to see the gold lace dress, and knew it was Sirius' girlfriend, Anwen speaking. "He told me this morning he's allergic to weddings, which is why he's so uptight." Although Harry was facing forward, he swore he heard the girl roll her eyes; something Sirius said she was prone to doing. "I'll go talk to him. Lily should be here any moment, and _SHE_ should be my concern, since her sibling won't show." The disgust at having to even refer to Petunia delighted Harry and he watched Anwen quickly walk down the aisle to the house, while Remus went the other way.

"You okay?" Hermione asked when they were gone, her tone so low, Harry had almost missed her question.

"I am," he replied. "I knew I'd see them, hear them, so it's okay. She's even spunkier than Sirius had said."

The couple were nearly two-thirds of the way back in the wedding tent, and it afforded them a great place to people watch. The women were wearing hats, although there was a strange and pronounced difference between what the magical and Muggle considered appropriate items on their chapeaus. The Muggle ones were covered in demure flowers, butterflies, birds, and feathers; while the magical ones were generally more vibrant and had whole plants, large birds or the like on top. He was sure one of the women had a cat curled onto her head. He could only imagine what Lily's extended family was thinking about the odd dressing tastes of the magical.

When the ceremony started, Harry was prepared for how beautiful his Mum would look; how proud his father was when he looked at her and how in love they both were. He was surprised however, at how serious Sirius was when he was standing next to his dad. Remus and Peter were seated with his grandparents, signifying their importance in his dad's life. Eva and Anwen were with Mr and Mrs Evans on the other side.

What shocked Hermione and Harry was the sound of Anwen's voice when she sang. Sirius had said she could sing, but after hearing her sing the processional, they agreed he'd undersold her talent. When she stood a second time, Harry looked over at Sirius. He'd never seen him look so happy, calm or in love.

"She's pretty remarkable," Hermione noted.

"Yeah," Harry muttered. "I wish I'd known her."

"I know, Harry. I know."

When Anwen was done, Eva came forward and read a passage from the Bible about love, and then Remus stepped forward. "A reading by Lord Byron; So, we'll go no more a-roving." He took a pause before starting the poem.

"So, we'll go no more a-roving

So, late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

And the moon be still as bright.

"For the sword outweighs it sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest.

"Though the night was made for loving,

And the day returns too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a-roving,

By the light of the moon."

Remus sat down quickly, and Harry noted the amused looks on the set of friends. Even his parents looked as if they were having to stifle their laughter. Sirius appeared as if he would jump out of his skin from his delight.

"Did he just actually read that?" Hermione questioned, her tone and face laced with happiness.

"He did. Dad must have picked that one."

Harry watched with rapt attention as his parents exchanged vows and rings, which Peter produced. The words were tender and affectionate, and while he should have been happy, it only accentuated how much he missed them.

Anwen stood to sing another song, and the tone and words of the song were different. The song spoke of 'one heart, one love' but with a melancholia in the tune which just made him sadder. When she sang 'even death can't part us now", Harry felt the first tear fall from his eye. Did she know, did his parents? He wanted to believe that his parents married and then the danger surrounded them; but was it the other way around? Had they known their marriage would attract attention from the Death Eaters? Had they already defied Voldemort and set themselves on the pathway which would lead to their destruction and his loneliness? If they'd married with the acknowledgement they might not be long for this world, then why do it? Harry's head was spinning and he felt clammy and sick.

The ceremony ended and while everyone else stood, Harry remained sitting, putting his head between his knees. When Hermione saw this, she knelt next to him, her hand on his arm.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"Hermione, they married knowing it might cause their murders. They knew, did you hear that song? They knew!"

"Oh, Harry, of course they did."

"Why do it? Why did they draw attention to themselves?"

"Didn't you see why today?" she asked, to which he shook his head fervently. "They did it because they were so in love with each other, they couldn't not marry."

Harry wasn't sure he liked her answer, but it at least made sense to him. With her urging pull on his arm, Harry stood and began clapping as the couple walked past, followed by Anwen and Sirius. Mr and Mrs Evans were next, then the senior Potters and finally Remus and Peter flanking Eva.

The reception was to be on the back lawn of the estate, and round wrought-iron tables were set up about the area, large white, pink and coral umbrellas providing shade from the late morning sun. Champagne, fruit salads and an assortment of breads were already on the table when the guests sat down, and a battalion of men, dressed in tuxedos with gloved hands were filing out of the summer kitchen building. The gentle sounds of a string quartet filtered out from a walkway, which was covered in wisteria vines and blooms. Harry and Hermione chose a table a ways away from the head table, although they had a direct view of it.

Harry was quiet during the meal, processing everything he thought and felt during the ceremony, relying on Hermione to make the small talk with the others at their table. Although saddened by his earlier recollection, Harry enjoying watching his parents kiss and snuggle for the pictures. Harry picked the children's table out almost immediately, as Tonks' pink hair was unmistakable. He could only imagine what the Muggles were thinking about that. Harry saw Remus staring at the gooey children with revulsion, and thought of his hidden picture.

The five friends of the couple gave the toast together, and after hearing Sirius' series of slightly suggestive remarks, Harry understood not letting the best man do this alone. Remus had nudged him one, and if the grimace Harry noticed, he was sure Anwen had done something as well. If what he'd heard was the stuff they'd allow, he couldn't imagine what they wouldn't.

Thankfully, his parents were spared further embarrassment by the beginning of the dancing, and he loved watching his parents waltz. It was obvious his father was comfortable leading his mother, as was Sirius when he joined them, Anwen in his arms. The latter couple had a grace and fluidity that even his parents couldn't match. How it took Sirius another year to figure out he loved this girl was something Harry didn't get. It wasn't long before Remus and Eva and then Peter and a short, round faced girl were all on the floor. It was a surprising side to the Marauders, they could be gentlemen too.

People began leaving, and Hermione suggested they head back to Oxford before they were noticed. Harry downed his last swig of champagne and pushed his seat out. He was surprised to notice Peter heading directly to their table.

"Please, make sure you take a bit of the cake with you," he said to Hermione. "It's a sure way to dream of your true love."

"I, er, I already have one," she stumbled over her answer, "but thank you."

Three things happened in such rapid succession that when Harry would remember them later, he really couldn't pinpoint which was first. Hermione stood, and pushed her chair back while Peter smiled and set his sights on the next table to tell others about the small boxes with the wedding cake inside. At the same moment a little boy ran behind their chairs. Hermione accidentally bumped into him, which sent his small body flailing. Peter, with reflexes Harry didn't know he had, quickly grabbed the child and pulled him out of the way.

Then the small boy vomited…all over Peter Pettigrew, his nice suit and his gracious manners. Harry turned away and smiled.

For reference, from the wedding ceremony, if not specifically stated:

Processional: "Gaelic Blessing" by Butter

Scripture Reading: 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8

Song after vows: "One Hand, One Heart" from West Side Story


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

**Be My Forever**

**(Inspired by the Christina Perri/Ed Sheeren song)**

**August 1, 1998**

"Harry James Potter," a feminine voice called from below, "get down here now or you won't be eating any breakfast before we have to go." Harry groaned, rolling over in his bed and throwing an arm over his face. He lay there, scouring his brain for a reason Hermione would be up before him, and where the heck they needed to be going. His last clear thought had been of the little kid barfing all over Peter at his parents' wedding. Harry had suddenly felt weird, and Hermione had practically had to drag him to the far side of an outbuilding to use the Time-Turner. He had a vague memory of kicking his clothes off, but that was it.

"Harry, get a move on."

"Delightful," he grumbled, "she's in one of THOSE moods this morning." Harry flung the sheet and blanket off him and then sort of tumbled out of his bed. He looked around his floor, hoping to find his trousers, but they weren't there. "Hermione cleaned up after me?" he groggily asked himself. "Suppose there's a first for everything," he answered. A pair of jeans and a dark green polo-style shirt were lying neatly over the chair in the corner, and Harry shook his head at the oddity of it all. "Perhaps she and I need to have a conversation about boundaries?"

Harry stumbled down the stairs, surprised at how the sunlight coming in the windows made the whole place look better. Maybe there wasn't as much repair work to do as he'd initially thought. He smiled at the quaintness of the place, noticing that a bouquet of the wildflowers which surrounded the hunting lodge, had been put on the mantle.

"About time," the voice called from the kitchen. "Your coffee is on the table, and I'm finishing up the bangers." Harry stopped to consider this, wondering if he'd brought back someone other than Hermione. She didn't like coffee. She didn't have the slightest idea how to make coffee. She never made him breakfast. Heck, she wasn't even awake when he got up most mornings. Harry closed his eyes, shook his head briskly and then opened them again. Not noticing anything different he pinched himself.

"Ouch!"

"You okay in there?" the voice asked again. This time Harry noticed it was deeper than Hermione's, more like Ginny's voice. Now that was something that Hermione would do. Harry had mentioned he wanted to tell Ginny everything, and explain why he'd taken Hermione instead of her. Honestly, he wasn't sure how he'd react to seeing them all, alive and young and so happy. Hermione had seen him at his absolute worst, Ginny hadn't yet.

Excited to see his girlfriend, Harry strode into the kitchen, smiling at the red-head working the stove. "Just in time, I'll plate all this. Everyone should be here any minute."

Then she turned to look at him, and Harry collapsed into the chair.

It wasn't Hermione. It wasn't Ginny or any Weasley for that matter. It was his mum! She looked older than at her wedding, more like a woman, but still astoundingly beautiful. Harry's breath quickened and he rubbed his eyes again.

"Harry, are you feeling well?" she asked. "You look absolutely peaked."

"Er…"

"Maybe you've picked up that virus that Chris and Andy Lupin brought home from their day care," she stated as she put the plate with toast and bangers on the table and felt his forehead. "Doesn't feel like you have a fever, although you are a bit clammy. Open your mouth, let me look down your throat." Lily Potter pulled her wand and lit the tip silently. Harry stared at her in utter confusion. "Harry, open up, the virus leaves blue spots on the throat. Let me check for them, sweetheart."

Harry complied, wondering if he was having the worst dream ever.

"No spots, that's good. I know you like to go with us to the cemetery every year. You and your cousins, you've been going since the beginning. I think it's different for you three because of that." Harry had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn't matter. He stood up and threw his arms around her in a strong hug.

"Oh, if this is the response I'm going to get when you wake up late, I'll let you sleep in every day. It's been a while since you hugged me like that," she said wistfully.

"Sorry, Mum."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Harry. You're a young man now, not my little boy. I'm happy, though, that Ethan, RJ and Evan are going with us too. They're all out in the garden with your Dad and uncles. All of you are getting so grown up, even your brothers and sisters." She sighed. "Your aunts will be here soon, so get a move on with your breakfast. We need to be gone from the cemetery before the Pettigrews arrive."

Harry attempted to wrap his brain around what his Mum had just said. Dad was alive? Sirius and Remus, were they his uncles? That made sense…then his aunts were Anwen and Eva or would it be Tonks? Who were all these kids? What cousins? What cemetery were they going to that the Pettigrews would dare show their faces? The questions swirled in Harry's brain, and clouded his vision so that he hadn't noticed his mum sit down in the chair next to him, nor her taking his hand.

"Harry, dear, what's the matter? You look gobsmacked this morning."

"What are we doing today?"

"Harry, it's August first, we're going to visit Peter's grave. We always go on the anniversary," she said gently, then her face changed and she suddenly reminded him of Mrs Weasley. "You, Bas and Draco didn't get into the liquor did you? I always hate when you're at their house. Just because Sirius lets you boys have whisky when you're there, doesn't mean I have to like it —"

"Draco?"

"Harry, your cousin, Draco Black? You've known him your whole life. Anwen and Sirius adopted him when he was just a toddler. Honestly, Harry, did you fall and bump your head? It sounded like you fell out of bed earlier." She immediately stood and started feeling his head.

"Mum, Mum," he complained, raising his hands to stop her. "I didn't bump my head. I just jolted awake from a strange dream or something. Just, tell me about Peter again." Harry closed his eyes, still attempting to make sense of all that was going on.

"Oh, Harry, every year…you never knew him, but the way your dad and his mates talk about him, I suspect you know as much as they do," she said lovingly, brushing his fringe from his forehead and then placing a hand on his cheek. "Your Dad's third cousin, Balthazar, was ill at the wedding. He got sick all over Peter, who then helped the boy's parents get him to St. Mungo's. Concerned about what it might be, and with all my Muggle relatives there, the professors from school did a general illness sanitation charm. Peter had gone directly to his flat from hospital, and none of us thought…" His mother stopped because her voice had broken. She took a few deep breaths and wiped a tear from her face before continuing. "No one thought about him after the party. Sirius had to take Anwen to work, Remus and Eva stayed behind to help our parents clean up and your dad and I went on our honeymoon. It wasn't until two days later when Sirius went to check on Peter that they discovered he was ill, too. Balthazar had gotten the Dragon Pox, Peter had never had them.

"The healers tried, Harry, but he just never really got better. It was only a bit over two weeks later that he died. Your dad still blames himself, since it was his little cousin who got Peter sick. The Pettigrews blame us too, although I suspect they just hang onto the blame to make themselves feel better that they hadn't inoculated him when he hadn't had them before he started Hogwarts."

"Lily Potter," a sweet, gentle, higher pitched voice called as a beautiful blonde woman walked in. Harry knew from his pictures that this was Eva. "Are you trying to put me out of a job?"

"No, my friend," Lily said as she stood and hugged the other woman, "just explaining things to Harry and our theories on the Pettigrews. Where's Anwen?"

"She got called into the Ministry to sign something for the Minister. He didn't want to bother James, and since she's their legal counsel, her signature would suffice. Malfoy is being transferred to the facility in Iceland." Eva explained. "I just hope Sirius doesn't find out about it. He'll go on another yelling spree in the Minister's office." The two women laughed, and Harry felt a calmness come over him.

"Harry, why don't you take your toast out and talk with your dad?" his mum suggested. "Maybe you can tell him about your weird dream to take his mind off the day."

"Sure." Harry scooped up his breakfast and headed out the back door, liking the way it slammed from the spring on it. He saw Sirius and Remus talking to some other boys, two looking about his age, the other three a bit younger. One looked just like his mum, only with his Dad's dark eyes. He wondered if that could be his brother. If this was a dream spurred on by his visit to the past, he didn't want to wake up. He thought, though, it might be something else.

His dad was sitting on a stone bench, in exactly the same spot as he'd built his bench in the stone grotto Harry had made in his dream or … he didn't want to think about that right now. On the same wall where Harry had made his happy couples, he saw his father had carved the Marauders out on one of their moonlight romps. Harry sat down next to his dad.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, Harry. I thought by this time, it wouldn't be so hard."

"What do you mean?"

"Harry, he's been gone for twenty years, but there are still days when it feels like the pain is so new. I'd never lost anyone before him, you know. Sure my great-grandparents had died, but they were in their one-forties, it's not like they hadn't lived good, long lives. Pete, he was only eighteen…we were just starting out."

"I get it, Dad," Harry said quietly, as he allowed his mind to drift to Fred and Lavender and Cedric. Since the last battle, he'd kept his mind away from the others who died. It was simply too painful. Now, as he watched his father grappling twenty years on with the death of someone Harry had come to hate, he let himself feel. He might not mourn Wormtail like his dad was, but he did know the pain of a friend's loss. Harry put his hand on his father's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Dad, a wise man told me that no one that we love ever truly leaves us, I think that's true. Part of him still lives on in you."

"That's profound, Harry," James said, raising his hand to cover his son's and give it a pat. "For a moment there, I thought you might be going to tell me Sirius' line about dead folks. 'No one we love ever leaves us, and those we hate just haunt us'." James stopped for a moment before he and his son shared a laugh. "I suppose if I were him, and had his wacky Aunt Cassiopeia still haunting one of my houses, I might have dark humour too." The laughter died naturally, and Harry had wished for moments like these, but never believed he'd get one.

The pair sat in silence for a few more minutes before a short woman came out of the house with several chipped plates and two girls who looked like twins behind her. His Mum and Eva came out as well, and the whole family gathered around the plates. Even if he didn't have pictures of Anwen, Harry would have known the petite woman by the way Sirius looked at her.

Their time at the gravestone was brief, and they all returned to the hunting cottage, as it was close by and had a Floo connection to each of the different family homes. As they milled around the garden, eating the luncheon his mum and aunts had made, Harry went over to Remus.

"Remus, I have a hypothetical for you," Harry said and Remus nodded. "What if someone did something accidental while they were back in time with a Time-Turner? Would a little thing, like spilling soup or dropping a key somewhere, would it be enough to change the course of someone's life?"

"Hmm, interesting question. This is more something your Aunt Anwen would know, but…?" he paused and Harry could almost see him thinking. "I suppose anything is possible. There are physicists who think a butterfly flapping its wings is enough to start a slight breeze which could turn into a hurricane on the other side of the world; so I guess spilling soup could be enough to change time. Why do you ask?"

"Just thinking. Guess I miss school."

"You'll have enough of it come two weeks. Sirius said your aunt is chomping at the bit to be back at work and teaching. I think you first year cadets might be in for some hard work. At least you have some fine tutors," he said as he motioned around the grassy area. There were children running everywhere, as well as some folks who had to be grandparents to one family or another. If what he was seeing was accurate, whose family didn't matter.

"It's an amazing family, Uncle Remus. I'm lucky to have them." Harry looked around. His dad was smiling, tossing a little girl with crazy-curly red hair in the air. His mum and Anwen were clearing dishes and talking a mile a minute. Some little girls were having a tea party in the shade and the younger boys were kicking around a football. Eva seemed to have her hands full with a pair of sleepy twin boys, he supposed them to be the aforementioned Chris and Andy, who had the blue spot virus. Sirius must have been talking Quidditch, if his hand movements were any indication, with Draco and his brother, as well as the twin-looking girls, who he had learned weren't, but instead were cousins. One of them was his sister, but he wasn't sure which one. It was a normal day. A family day. One of what he suspected were a thousand that he might have already had. It was a happy day; and whether it was a dream or if they'd really changed time, Harry wasn't sure and he didn't care.

It was the happiest day, and they were all together.


End file.
